


Cold-Blooded Brothers

by ThirthFloor



Series: FE3H Siblings Week 2020!! [5]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Glenn Fraldarius is the Bad Guy, Miklan (Fire Emblem) Redemption, Miklan is actually a good brother, Miklan/Glenn Swapped Roles, Sibling week, Sylvain and Felix aren't really friends?, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirthFloor/pseuds/ThirthFloor
Summary: Day 5 of Siblings Week!! Role Swap AU!!Despite having it all, Glenn Fraldarius can't shake the hate he feels for his brother; pathetic Felix will never learn to be a strong soldier, and it may be the end of him.Despite having nothing, Miklan Gautier has the greatest little brother anyone could ask for; Sylvain will ensure that his brother does not go abandoned.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Glenn Fraldarius, Sylvain Jose Gautier & Miklan
Series: FE3H Siblings Week 2020!! [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726666
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44
Collections: FE3H Siblings Week





	Cold-Blooded Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> So... What if Glenn was the shitty older brother, and Miklan loved Sylvain unconditionally despite being Crestless?
> 
> Well, here we go.
> 
> Follow Siblings Week on Twitter!! @Fe3hSiblings !!

“Again, Felix!” Glenn Fraldarius growled, lunging at his younger brother, who was now ten years old. Ten years old and still couldn’t hold his own against his brother. The blunt edge of the practice sword slammed into his shoulder, and Felix let out a sharp cry as he fell backwards onto his ass, his own weapon clattering to the ground.

Yes, Glenn had just graduated the Officers Academy; yes, he was going to be a seasoned knight for the king, but none of that should matter. He’d been training Felix himself since the child could walk, and yet he still didn’t seem to understand how to keep himself up during a fight. The most _basic_ principle, to keep your footing, and get up if you fall. The foolish boy couldn’t seem to get a grasp on that one _simple_ idea. Glenn scowled cruelly, sidling over to loom above his brother and pressing the wooden blade of his sword close against his throat.

Tears pricked at the younger Fraldarius’ eyes as he choked against the pressure, tapping the ground beside him twice. Pleading silently, he kicked at the ground. “Guh - Glenn…”

“You have to learn to get up, Felix. A real enemy doesn’t give a shit about a crybaby.” He crouched over his brother’s smaller form, blue eyes as cutting as the ice they resembled. There was no room for pity, no room for sympathy. There never had been. It was just practice, practice, practice… Getting beaten every day, for Felix. But he had to _learn_ , he had to be _strong_ for once in his life.

The pathetic child, training as hard as he could and still progressing too slowly, continued to whimper as he lay there on the unforgiving stone floor. It was that annoying, useless, crybaby attitude holding him back. Glenn’s blood boiled just thinking about it, just hearing the pathetic sniffles from the boy beneath his blade. Once he broke through that useless mindset, he’d finally learn to do something. He’d finally quit being an embarrassment, a disgrace to the family and its duty in service to the king…

Finally, _finally_ , Felix thrashed in desperation, already pale skin going paler as he lost air, and he managed to wiggle his foot up and land a solid enough kick to Glenn’s groin, enough to make him grunt and knock him off balance. Glenn pulled away and gasping, the younger Fraldarius scrambled away without even getting up, crawling on all fours if he had to, just to get to the other side of the training grounds of the Fraldarius estate. 

His bruised, scarred, battered bare arms trembled as he pushed himself to his feet, and Felix glared back at Glenn with something deeper than resentment: fear. He hated this, he hated training and losing and hated _him_ , and that made him afraid.

Glenn sneered, spitting on the ground where Felix had lain moments ago. “Pick up your damn sword. You wouldn’t be so afraid if you could pull yourself together and fight back.” He crossed one arm over the other and crouched, getting into another ready fighting stance, his blade waiting restlessly, hungrily at his side. This fucking kid, he would need to learn someday. Glenn told himself only that he wanted the ass-beating to be by his own hand, not by a bandit who would kill his brother. He told himself that he loved him.

_But really, it was all cathartic._

“N-No, I’m done, Glenn!” Felix crossed his arms, hurting and shaking and sore. His cheeks shone with ever-flowing tears, trained into silence if it weren’t for his sniffles. “I’m not going to be as strong as you, I’m just _not_! Stop trying to make me like you!”

“I’m _protecting_ you! The world is unforgiving, Felix.” Oh, how his blood burned. Oh, how it churned deep in his gut, this frustration, this irritation. “You should thank me.”

“For trying to kill me every day!?” Felix screamed back, retreating further away from the grounds. “For beating me until I can’t remember my own name, let alone how to fight? Glenn - you’re cruel! You’re torturing me, not training me!”

“Don’t walk out that door until you can safely turn your back on me.” Growling, Glenn stalked towards Felix. If he acted now, he could get between Felix and the door before the younger boy could escape. Maybe his desperation would fuel something, a new strength to fight through. Maybe this was what he needed. Yes, _yes_ , this would do it.

“I’m going!” Felix snapped, turning towards the door.

Glenn lurched forward, feet almost slipping at how fast he dove. “Don’t turn your back on an opponent, Felix!!” 

He swung the training sword horizontally, force coming from a twist of his shoulders, just as Felix whipped around, a shriek for Father on his lips.

~

“That’s it, Sylvain! Go for it!” Miklan cheered as Sylvain spurred his stallion into a gallop, the mount gracefully leaping over the narrow stream that separated the riding fields from the grazing pastures. The elder Gautier applauded from where he sat atop his mare, his younger brother grinning ear to ear as he guided his horse to trot towards them.

His laugh was as bright as it was breathless from excitement. “I can’t believe that’s the first time I’ve ever done that! That was great, wasn’t it Miklan?”

“Of course, you and that stallion are a natural fit!” Beaming back at him, the older boy tugged on his reins to face the open pastures. “But you have yet to beat Amèlie and me in a proper race.”

“What? I’ve beaten you before!” Sylvain protested, and yet his hazel eyes sparked at the challenge. He gently nudged his horse to stand perfectly alongside Miklan and his mare. “Loads of times, really. You’re an awful good teacher, so I’ll give credit where credit’s due.”

“You’ve beaten me around the track, yes, but in a real race? Out over the estate grounds? You’re in for a treat, little brother.” Miklan’s eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, same as his sibling, and in unison, they hunched forward over the front of their saddles. “Ready then? Full lap around the forest, up to the far edge of the lake.”

“On it. Meet you at the finish line, Miklan!” Cackling triumphantly, Sylvain gave his stallion a good slap, and they took off across the pale fields. Miklan was soon to follow, the thundering of hooves and breathless laughs becoming the only sounds to be heard until one of them shouted directions.

The race ended up being much longer and farther than Miklan’s original route, each neck-and-neck with the other for nearly the entire time. When Miklan began to take the lead, the thrill took hold in his veins, but then he thought quickly about how it was Sylvain’s birthday, and how it hadn’t gone exactly as planned today, and Miklan slowed just enough for his little brother to pass him with a gust of air.

He deserved a win; the kid worked hard, and their home wasn’t easy. And the pure, enthusiastic smile on his face when he turned to face Miklan warmed his heart, making it all worth it. 

“I told you I would beat you!” Sylvain teased as his older brother caught up with him, and their mounts fell into an easy walk along the lakeside.

Chuckling, Miklan replied, “I knew you would. You’re a fast learner, and really talented, Syl. If you weren’t the greatest little brother, I’d almost be jealous.”

“But you’re not, right?” Sylvain’s expression sobered along with his voice. “I… Mikky, I know it was a while ago but the… the Crest thing…” He trailed off. It was surprising of him to bring it up so directly, but as Sylvain turned thirteen today, evermore their parents became insistent, aggressive in their lecturing and preening of him.

“I won’t say it doesn’t sting, still.” Miklan mused honestly. “But with you sticking up for me, and them leaving me alone, it’s not as bad as it could be… And well, there’s nothing I can do about it. You’re more fit for the job, and as long as I’ve got you by my side, I know there will be a place for me somewhere.” His smile was more refined as he gazed at his brother. “Plus, they work you harder than anyone. It’s not like your role is easy. I’m here to make _that_ easier for you, you know? To let you still be a kid, like any humane person would.”

Sylvain nodded, staring down at his hands for a moment. Then, he looked back up. Matching hazel eyes met. “Do you remember that promise that we made, when I was like - eight?”

“That we would stay together until we died together? Yeah, I remember.”

“I intend to keep that. You’re my brother, Miklan. You mean the world to me, okay? And you deserve so much more than our asshole family gives you. You’re going to be a knight of the highest damned honour once I take dad’s place. And no one will give a shit about Crests, once I’m there. It’ll be done.” He was still young, but hardship - and prevailing through that hardship - had made Sylvain wise, made him strong. It showed in his earnest eyes, in his confident words and kind heart.

It had done the same for Miklan, too. He nodded, a smile forming on his own face. Crests be damned, Miklan had the blessing of having the greatest little brother ever. He reached out, ruffling Sylvain’s wild red hair. “You’re the fucking best. Now, watch your damn language before it becomes a habit and you let it slip at home, got that you little shit?” There was nothing but affection in his voice.

“Oh, shut up, asshole.” Sylvain giggled, ducking away from his hand. “Want to race home?”

“You bet I do. And I’ll win this time.”

“I hope you do. Then we’ll be even.” And Sylvain took off, hair whipping in the wind like the mane of his stallion. “But I won’t go easy on you!”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it!! I respond to every one!!
> 
> So I whipped up this idea as a unique approach to the Role Swap AU, but I think I'm actually going to continue it as its own series. How would things have changed between Sylvain and Felix, and within them themselves, if their brothers had been different? I want to explore that.
> 
> It's already obvious that they aren't as close, given that Sylvain made their childhood promise with his brother, instead.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter!! @thirthfloor


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